


First Night in the Deep Roads

by TheReviewess



Series: Heroics Run In The Family [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angry Warden (Dragon Age), Darkspawn, Deep Roads, Dragon Age Quest: A Paragon of Her Kind, Nightmares, Panic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReviewess/pseuds/TheReviewess
Summary: As an elf, Aerinwyn Mahariel didn't like the idea of going underground on principle. But spending the nights in the Deep Roads? That is a literal nightmare.





	First Night in the Deep Roads

**Author's Note:**

> So for anyone who has checked the other parts of my series, you'll notice Mahariel is quicker to anger and pretty much a raging bitch. That's the point. She's angry during Origins, she's got a lot going on. She's angry, but she gets better. Not in this story, but later in her journey to end the Blight.

 

Even after being in Orzammar for a few weeks, Aerinwyn Mahariel had still not gotten used to life under the ground. In all honesty, it made her desperate for the surface once more. To see sun and feel it upon her skin was all she asked. But no, instead she was wandering the fucking Deep Roads with a damn drunk for a guide and no idea what the fucking time of day was!

“If I had known that becoming a Grey Warden would mean I had to spend my time skulking under the earth, like some _worm_ , I would have rather contracted the Blight Sickness and died.” Aerin hissed to her Morrigan, her only companion, minus Fen’Falon of course. The Mabari curled into her side, clearly not liking the Deep Roads either.

While Aerinwyn had become more accepting of their band of misfits, including Oghren, their newest member (or so she assumed), Morrigan still made the most sense out of the lot. Shem were stupid, touching people casually was weird, and fuck the Chantry.

The two sat as far away as they could manage, without being too far in case of a fight. The both of them huddled together in the remains of some house that seemed to be part of Aeducan Thaig. That was at least what Oghren had said. The rest of the group was huddled in the center of a larger room, while she and Morrigan had their space.

“But then you would have never been gifted with my presence, and what a shame that would be,” Morrigan replied in a snarky tone. There was a bit more bite to her voice, but it was likely Morrigan was experiencing the same troubles that Aerin was.

The Deep Roads had a haunting sort of silence to them. It was nothing like the forest, full of the sounds from animals. Aerinwyn always loved the birds chirping, and the sounds of animals scuttling through the underbrush. And the wind, Creators how she missed the sound and feeling of the wind blowing through the trees. But that was above them now. The only sounds here came from the occasional trickle of water down the crumbling rock walls, or the sounds of metal and leather striking stone with each step taken. But here and now, there was nothing. Just eerie and completely unnatural silence. And it was driving Morrigan and Aerinwyn absolutely out of their fucking minds!

Almost without a sound, Mahariel unraveled a fur cloak of sorts that she had crafted while the group remained amongst Zathrian’s Clan. Well, while she remained among Zathrian’s Clan… or rather Lanaya’s clan now, and the others made their camp father away from the Dalish. She sort of ditched her misfits for The People, but no one held it against her (or so they said, it's hard to tell with the Shem). The cloak was made from the pelts of werewolves slain before she was able to convince Zathrian to let go of his grief and to come to an agreement with the Lady. Grumbling mostly to herself, Aerin pulled up the hood, letting the wolf head rest on top of hers, and pulled her knees to her chest. The cloak still smelled of the forest, and brought a slight comfort to her. Also the wolf head was intimidating as fuck, and often worked in her favor.

Morrigan followed her lead, unrolling a small fur poncho of sorts and pulled it over her head. The two seemed content enough to wallow in their misery for the remainder of their night, or time before going to sleep, seeing that they didn’t quite know if it was night time or not. It was the sudden sound of metal striking stone that had the two lurching to their feet, bow and staff ready to kill at a moment’s notice.

“Sorry!” Alistair told them quietly, holding up his hands and rising slowly to his full height. At his feet sat his armor, which seemingly fell over as he was cleaning it. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“The only thing that scares me, Alistair, is your fucking clumsiness summoning all the fucking Darkspawn!” Aerin hissed back, venom in her tone. It had been quite a while since anyone heard her speak with such disdain that it threw everyone for a loop.

Except Oghren. And Morrigan, she mentally applauded the Warden for her statement.

“Is she always like this?” The drunkard asked with apparently no regard for his life or general wellbeing.

“Mind your business, dwarf,” Aerin drawled, bow shifting ever so slightly to him. Morrigan followed suit, but began lowering her staff now that the initial threat was… well, no threat at all.

While he did not know it, the rest of the group knew what danger Oghren was in. Very few people with the business end of Mahariel’s arrows pointed at them, lived to tell the tale. Especially with the rather volatile personality that Aerinwyn had. She had gotten much better with her anger, but being underground brought all of her negative qualities to the surface, which made everyone tread carefully and watch what they say and do around her.

“Aerin, put the bow down before you hurt someone,” Leliana tried to tell her in the calming sort of voice that she had. She had forged a surprisingly strong friendship with the elf, and usually could talk some sense into her.

That did not work in her favor, because soon enough it was Leliana that had the business end of an arrow pointed at her. While she showed no outward signs of nerves or fear thanks to her bardic training, inside she was terrified. In her lifetime she met very few people (to include elves) with the skill that Aerinwyn had when it came to archery, and so she knew the next moments could very well be her last. Thankfully, Leliana’s particular skill set would be very useful in diffusing the situation.

“Now, now, you don’t want to hurt anyone, Aerinwyn,” Wynne sounded from her seated position.

Or not.

As the Warden turned her bow again, she started to come to her senses. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Especially Wynne, who was practically the grandmother of the group and always so nice to her, even if she offered some unwanted advice, she did so because she genuinely cared for Aerin. And Aerin didn't want to hurt her. She had just been startled, and was praying to the Creators (Do they even see her underneath the earth?) that the Darkspawn didn’t come near their group. Of course, she would be dammed to admitted, but she was frightened, even if she didn't let it show.

Snarling, the elf eventually put the arrow away and put her bow down by her side. She didn’t let it go, lest the Darkspawn actually came for them. Aerin turned on a sovereign and stalked right back to her corner with Morrigan in tow.

“Are the Darkspawn close?” Zevran asked quietly breaking the silence. His voice was on the quieter side, but her knew that Aerinwyn would be able to hear him. After all their ears tended to pick up noise better than human ones.

“They’re everywhere,” Alistair admitted, sitting back down. He set his armor off to the side, deciding that he was done with it for now. “We’ve felt them since the moment we set foot in Orzammar.”

That had been a literal nightmare for Aerinwyn. The further they progressed underground, the more prominent their senses became. They were everywhere and yet nowhere. Nothing was safe. They were always there, always feeling, always sensing, never resting. She could never get rid of the feeling, gnawing at the back of her mind. haunting her, driving her crazy!

“There ain’t darkspawn in Orzammar.” Oghren gruffed, clearly pissed that their damn leader almost shot him.

But the dreams still came when they stayed in Orzammar. Stronger there than on the surface, where apparently most of the Darkspawn were. The Archdemon came to her many nights, roaring and singing. Singing the song so sweet but so maddening! Each dream almost more intense than the last, driving her to stay awake. For being awake but tired was much better than sleeping and seeing the Archdemon again and again.

“Their presence is stronger down here than on the surface,” Alistair told them all, looking over toward their sulking leader.

Their eyes met and Aerinwyn could see. He felt it. The sensing, the feeling, the gnawing. The bags under his eyes showed her that much. He likely dreamed like her, listened to the song like her, kept from sleeping like her too. In that moment there was a mutual understanding amongst them. He meant no harm to her, and she meant none to him. They were fine. They had to be fine. They would be fine.

Sighing, she pulled her eyes away from Alistair’s all knowing gaze. Resting her forehead against her knees, she closed her eyes and pictured the only thing that could bring joy to her heart and peace to her tired mind.

_Faenra._


End file.
